u up?
by AmberZ10
Summary: A modern love story.


"What can I get for you ladies?"

"Um, she'll have a—what are you having?"

"Martini, neat. Thanks."

"She'll have a martini, and I'll have a…mint julep."

Selina laughed. "Who the fuck orders a mint julep?"

"I do. Piss off." Pamela bumped her friend's shoulder, settling onto a bar stool. "I suppose I should ask how married life is treating you."

Sighing wistfully, Selina set her purse down on the counter and sat down beside her. "Honestly?"

"No, I want you to lie to me," Pam teased. "Yeah, I can listen to exactly one minute of your straight nonsense. Timer starts now."

"The sex is great. He's got a nice cock and—,"

"Stop! Nope! Shut up!"

Selina laughed, only stopping when the bartender slid them their drinks. "Fine, fine. I mean, it's true, but…I'm liking it more than I thought I would. I was afraid I'd feel…I don't know, chained? But it's more like…secure. It's nice."

Pam tried to hide her smile by sipping on her drink. "I'm happy for you."

"God, well you don't have to get all sappy with me."

"Shut up." Pam rolled her eyes. "Just be grateful you're done with dating."

"Oh yeah, how's that going for you? Still that gymnast's booty call?"

"She's not just a gymnast, she's an Olympic bronze medalist," Pam was quick to correct.

"That's the least impressive medal—,"

"And her name is Harley, and no," Pam firmly stated. "That's over."

"Right…." Selina was clearly unconvinced. "I can't believe the great and powerful Dr. Pamela Isley allows herself to be a side-chick."

"I am not a side-chick!"

"Doesn't she have a boyfriend?"

"Yes, but—," Pam stopped mid-sentence to down the rest of her drink, then turned to the bartender. "I need another one of these."

 **3 mint juleps later…**

"So I said 'fuck you!'"

"To who? To her?"

"No, no, no, in my—in here," Pam tapped her temple. "She asked if I could come over and I said…"

Selina raised her eyebrows, leaning forward in hopes of prompting the rest of Pam's sentence. "You said…?"

"Nothing, I didn't respond. How's that for self-respect." Pam slammed her glass down like she was punctuating her statement. "Cuz I don't need her!"

"Mhm…"

"Don't need her or her fingers or her tongue—she's terrible at oral, it's actually kinda cute because she tries so hard and—but I don't need it! And her abs, like…fuck she's sexy."

Selina threw back a shot of tequila. "Fuck her, no abs are worth it. Bruce has abs but he got me the wrong blender so like—does it even matter?"

"He did _what_?" Pam was aghast. "That's disgusting. Men are disgusting."

"And so are women," Selina amended, resolute.

"Totally," Pam agreed…until she didn't. "Actually, women are incredible, it's just—,"

Selina grabbed her shoulders. "No! Pam! Don't give in. Remember? Fuck her."

"Yeah, I…" Pam trailed off when her phone buzzed. She sloppily tried the lock screen code a few times before getting it right. "Wanna fuck her."

"Huh?"

"She texted me." Pam was holding her phone like it was the golden ticket. "Selina, she wants to see me."

"What did she say?"

Pam turned the phone around to show her.

 **Harley 3: hey u up?**

"Pamela, nooooo. That's just another booty call. Fuck her!"

"Yeah, I'm gonna." Pam was already typing a response.

"No!" Selina snatched the phone, but it was too late.

 **Pam: Should I come over?**

 **Harley: ye**

 **I miss ur tits**

"Jesus, Pam," Selina couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. "This girl sounds like everyone's worst tinder date."

Pam took the phone back, reading Harley's response. "She misses me…"

"Your tits. She misses your tits."

"They're a part of me!" Pam was already gathering up her purse, but Pam used it to pull her back into her seat.

"There's no way I'm letting your drive."

Pam waved her off. "I'll call an uber."

"Don't you work tomorrow?"

"Harley can drive me."

"I feel like a terrible friend for letting you go."

Pam leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "Friends let friends get laid, Selina."

/

"I like the way you're being," Harley giggled, grabbing a fistful of Pam's hair.

"How's that?" the redhead's words were muffled by the pillow she was lying face down on.

"I don't know…" Harley mused, adding another finger and nipping at the freckles on Pam's shoulder. "Like you're going along with everything. What's the word for that?"

"Amen—fuck!—able."

Giggling again, Harley trailed her lips up to Pam's ear, pulling on her hair to give her access. After a moment of heavy breathing, she whispered, "It's sexy."

"It's—," Pam had to pause to bite down on the pillow in reaction to how Harley was now curling her fingers. "Probably because I'm a little drunk."

But Harley wasn't listening, and after she added a third finger, Pam sincerely didn't care.

/

Pam sat gingerly down on the edge of the bed, reaching a tentative hand out and placing it on Harley's shoulder. She really didn't want to wake her. Harley looked so peaceful and altogether adorable, spread out like a starfish, the blankets pulled haphazardly around her.

"Harley," she whispered, gently rubbing massaging her. "Harl?" _Best to try out the nickname when she's asleep._

The blonde sleepily balled up her fist to rub her eyes. "What?"

"I went out and got you one of those sugar-filled Starbucks monstrosities that you like so much." Pam smiled, holding what was essentially diabetes hot chocolate with a sprinkle of caffeine up to the other woman's nose.

Harley opened one eye, and then the other, both looking bleary and confused. "God, it's so early."

"Yes, well, it's a Thursday." Pam took her hand, wrapping her fingers around the cup and making sure Harley had a firm grip before letting go. She then picked up her own coffee, trying to caffeine her hang-over away with a smile on her face. Wasn't an easy task. "I'm afraid I work."

Harley struggled to sit up, finally resting against the headboard, her expression still sleepy and bathed in confusion. "Did you sleep here?"

"Yes," Pam grinned. "You were so cute. Clung to me all night like I was your teddy bear."

"Oh." Harley rubbed her eyes again. "Well thanks for coming over. I had fun." She slowly slunk back onto her pillow, setting her drink on the bedside table. "Have a good day at work."

As much as Pam wanted to let Harley sleep, hers wasn't exactly a job you could be late for. "Um, well actually, I have to be there by 9 and it's at least a 20-minute drive…"

"OK?" Harley still wasn't following.

"Last night you said you'd drive me, remember?"

Harley blinked up at her. "I did?"

"You did. I mean, it was while you were taking my pants off, so I understand why you were distracted," Pam joked.

Furrowing her brow, Harley asked, "Where do you work, again?"

"Oh, just down at Martha Wayne Memorial Hospital," Pam reminded her. "I'm a doctor."

"Like a medical doctor?"

"Yes, specializing in toxicology and infection diseases. It's a real growth industry." …Harley didn't laugh. "Because toxigenic molds, they—well, the mold itself isn't toxic but the mycotoxins they produce behave similarly to—bacteria grows." _Abort mission, Pamela_. "Wow, I'm sorry, that was a supremely stupid joke."

Harley at least laughed at that.

/

"How are you feeling today, Mr. Todd?" Pam asked, though her voice was a bit garbled when filtered through the microphone in her hazmat suit.

"Doesn't it say on your chart or whatever?"

Pam sighed. "I'm just trying to make conversation."

"Since when do you make conversation?"

"Since just now when I asked how you were feeling."

"Ah, I see…" her patient nodded sagely. "Guy troubles? You lonely?"

"First of all, how dare you."

He laughed. "Fine then. Girl troubles. Figures you have no love life."

"Why?!" Pamela demanded.

"Because you're always in here taking care of my sorry ass!" He laughed again, but it was interrupted by a rather painful-sounding cough. "You depress me."

" _I_ depress _you_?" Pamela was aware she was acting somewhat unprofessionally around a patient, but it was Valentine's Day so fuck him. "This is the third time you've been in quarantine this year."

"I have a dangerous job."

"You take stupid risks."

He petulantly flipped her off. "Hopefully I'll die in here so I won't have to live with the knowledge that I continued to disappoint you, Pamela."

"It's Dr. Isley, you're not going to die—I'm better at my job than that—and my love life isn't sad." She upped his saline drip. "Now go to sleep, Jason, you dick."

"Damn," he sighed, putting his hands behind his head, staring off into space like he was reflecting on something wonderfully nostalgic. "That sounds good right about now."

"What?"

"Dick."

Pam rolled her eyes, making a note on his chart after checking his numbers. "You're my least favorite patient."

"And you're my least favorite doctor."

"I'm your only doctor."

"I know, right?" He laughed. "Sad."

Thankfully done for the day, Pamela headed out of the room, waiting for her suit to be cleaned before stripping it off and hanging it on its hook.

It was only three o'clock. The administrator had assumed she was doing Pamela a favor when she only scheduled her for a half day on Valentine's Day. But Jason was right, this was all rather sad. Harley hadn't texted her in over two weeks and even if she had, Selina was right too, Pamela was a side-chick. She just didn't understand why! She and Harley clicked! The sex was fantastic, she liked Harley…maybe even loved her a little bit. She thought about her all the time and wanted her so desperately every minute of every day and… _fuck. This is sad._

With a sigh that somehow succeeded in depressing her further, Pam pulled her coat out of her locker, picking up her phone to check for a message she knew wouldn't be there. But…

It was.

 **Harley 3: hey red, u busy tonight? thought we could get dinner and a movie**

Pam literally squealed.

 _Play it cool._

 **Sure. What time?**

She waited, biting her lip to tamp down her grin, tapping her foot in anticipation.

 **How bout 6 at mine**

6! That meant…this wasn't a booty call! This wasn't just for sex. This was dinner and a movie! This was a _real_ date!

 **I'll be there.**

Pam hurried out of the room, clutching her purse and phone in her hand, and nearly sprinted down the hall back to the quarantine unit, where she skidded to a stop outside Jason's room and slammed her phone against the viewing window.

"How do you like them apples?!"

She was breathing hard, her grin impossible to contain.

"What? I can't see!" Jason yelled from his bed.

"I—look, I—my girlfriend—this girl I—I'm not just a booty call anymore!"

He gave her a double thumbs up. "Happy Valentine's Day, Doc."

/

Pamela was cutting it close, she knew this, but…everything had to be perfect. She'd hurried to buy a new dress; a sexy little black number the flaming salesman had assured her even he'd want to fuck her in. Then she'd had her hair and makeup done, called Selina to brag that she was graduating from side-chick, and was finally on her way.

Yeah, it was 6:05 and she was still 10 minutes away, but she looked really fucking hot, so she doubted Harley would care.

Pam checked her makeup one more time in the mirror, brushing a bit more blush onto her cheeks and then checking her teeth for lipstick. Once she was happy with her reflection, she took a deep, centering breath, and exited her car, starting up the four flights of stairs to Harley's apartment. She made sure not to go too fast, as it was paramount her hair stay in place, so it took her a little longer than usual, but again, she doubted Harley would care.

After clearing her throat and practicing a seductive smirk, Pam raised her fist to the door and rapped her knuckles three times on the wood surface.

It took a minute.

Worried, Pam checked her phone. It was only 6:20, she wasn't that late…

But before she had a chance to truly panic, she heard footsteps moving closer to the door from inside, and then the handle twist. Finally, the door swung open, and—

Harley was in her pajamas.

In her pajamas…munching on a bowl of cereal…her hair in messy pigtails and her makeup…chapstick.

"Geez," the blonde grinned, swallowing down a spoonful of cereal. "You look really hot."

"Oh, yes, I—." Pam was blushing. "I'm sorry, I wasn't sure where you were taking me, I'm not overdressed for the restaurant, am I?"

Harley cocked her head to one side. "Restaurant?"

"For, um—for dinner." Pam's skin was so hot it was crossing into uncomfortable. "Before the movie?"

"Oh! Yeah, nah, that's such a hassle." Harley turned away from the door, taking another bite of cereal, implying Pam should just follow her…into her messy, Central Gotham apartment. "I ordered a pizza. They should be here in like 10. You like pepperoni?"

"I'm a vegetarian."

"Shit." Harley plopped down on the couch. "Well I've got some oatmeal in the cupboard, I think."

 _Oh, Pamela. You sad, delusional idiot._

Pam honestly wasn't sure what to do. She felt so terribly ridiculous standing there, dressed to the nines in 6-inch stilettoes. She'd bought a new dress. She'd had her hair and makeup done professionally. All to…sit on a couch covered with what Pam presumed had once been clean laundry, and watch—

"What did you want to watch?"

Harley shrugged. "I think they're marathoning all 23 Fast & Furious movies on FX."

—to watch one or 20 of the seemingly never ending dumpster fire of ridiculous toxic masculinity known as the The Fast & The Furious franchise, staring Vin Diesel, of all people. Vin-Fucking-Diesel.

"I…really thought you were taking me out…" Pam nearly whispered.

Harley laughed. "On Valentine's Day? We would have had to get a reservation like a month ago."

"Right, of course. Stupid." Pam shuffled awkwardly near the door.

"Well come sit down!" Harley instructed. "You're making me nervous standing there."

 _Jesus, Pamela, you deserve better than this._

After a moment of indecision, Pam stripped her coat off her shoulders, hanging it over the back of a chair. "Did your…" _Don't ask_. "Boyfriend cancel on you, or something? Is that why you texted me?"

"Yeah, the jerk," Harley scoffed. "Didn't send me flowers or nothin' either. So I figured screw Valentine's Day! Imma text Red and we'll have a Galentine's Day."

"Galentine's Day."

"It's from Parks & Rec, it's like, who needs love when you've got friends?"

"Friends."

"Mhm." Harley nodded, setting her cereal bowl off to the side and turning on the TV.

Pamela had never wanted to die quite as much as she did in that moment. "I should…I think I'm going to go."

Harley's attention rocketed her way. "What?! No way! You just got here!"

"I just—," Pam was backing up. "I don't feel well."

"Oh…like, sick? Or bummed you don't have a Valentine?"

 _I thought you were my Valentine. I wanted you to be._

Pam didn't respond verbally, just turned for the door.

"Wait! Hey—." Harley had gotten up from the couch. "Red, hold on." she placed her hand on Pam's shoulder firsts, then gently cupped her jaw, turning her around. "How come you look so sad?"

Pamela was fighting hard against the tears beginning to mount behind her eyes. "I…" _Just say it, Pam. Christ, you clearly have nothing to lose._ "When you texted me, I…I thought that…" a tear dripped down her cheek. _God, this is so embarrassing_. "I don't want a Galentine. I want you."

Harley cocked her head to the side again, like a curious golden retriever, her blue eyes searching. "But I'm right here, Red."

"No, Harley, I want—fuck." She reached forward and cupped the blonde's face, leaning in to kiss her. Slowly, sensuously, knowing it could possibly be the last time. "I _want_ you, Harley. All of you. Not just late at night or when you're lonely. I want to wake up to you in the mornings and make you breakfast. I want you to drive me to work whenever you can just so we can be near each other and I want to be able to talk about my day with you, and ask about yours. I want to go out on Valentine's Day and I want you to be proud to show me off. Then I want to come home and make love, not just fuck."

Harley seemed to be looking at her differently now. Her eyes wide with understanding. "You dressed up for me," she realized.

"Yeah, I—yes."

Then that understanding was replaced with something terrible.

Pity.

"Pamela…"

"I should go." Pam grabbed her purse and coat, not bothering to put it on before opening the door.

"Red, don't…I feel bad…"

"No, it's fine," Pam cut her off. "I was naïve. I thought this was heading in a different direction. Don't text me again, please."

"Pamela, come on…"

"Happy Galentine's Day, Harleen."

/

Selina didn't mock her as much as Pam thought she would. Even Jason looked apologetic when Pam told him the date hadn't gone well. Telling him anything had meant swallowing a lot of pride, but he was really the only person she talked to on a daily basis, so she almost felt she owed it to him.

He was kind.

That was nice.

Told her a story about a man named Roy who he'd loved for years. About how they alternated who broke whose heart until they finally called it quits for good.

"Or so he said," Jason added with a noticeable degree of sarcasm. Although it sounded a lot like hope to Pamela.

"You fine as hell, Doc. Don't act like this is a permanent setback."

/

3 months later, Jason was finally cleared to leave the hospital, and Pamela personally wheeled him outside.

"Please stay away from the nuclear waste, Jason. For the love of God, get a different job."

Jason laughed. "Fuck off. We both know it's the black mold in my apartment that sends me back here. Or maybe I just like you, who knows?"

"I sincerely don't want to see you again," Pam told him, reaching out to shake his hand.

He shook, his grip strong and his smirk feral. "Yeah, likely story, Doc."

Pam watched him walk away from her, the weather far too warm for him to be wearing that leather jacket. And she smiled, confident in the knowledge that he wouldn't look back.

He didn't.

But Pamela did when she heard her name. Well…a name.

"Hey, Red."


End file.
